Naughty Woman, Naughty Man
by i love hershey
Summary: Edward Cullen realizes that the brunette on the dance floor is way out of her league and he steps up to the plate to rescue her; even if that means pretending to be Bella Swan's blind date. FULL SUMMARY INSIDE!
1. Prologue

Declaimer: I don't own anything Twilight, but I do own this story!

Hey guys! This is my first M-rated Fanfic so hopefully it'll be a hit, just like my other stories. In this story, most of the characters act different, but that's what fanfictions are for right? Enjoy!

Summary: The sweet, innocent brunette on the dance floor is way out of her league in this hot singles club. And the minute Edward Cullen recognizes that, his protective instincts step up to the plate while he tries to rescue her. If that means pretending to be Bella Swan's blind date, well, so be it. But before he can escort her to safety, she starts whispering some not so innocent suggestions in his ear. How is a guy supposed to be noble when all he can thing about is hitting the sheets?

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Prologue

Too bad his instinctive side was already caught up on the soft flame of Bella's embrace and the unmistakable message of her lips planted against his. How could he interpret the signs as anything but a blinking neon-green light?

Breaking away from the liquid fire of her kiss, Edward sought confirmation. He needed her to make the call tonight, since she had pushed him away last time.

"What is it you want, Isabella? I need to be sure."

"I want the kind of pleasures you started to give me the other night," she whispered. His body reacted immediately, an automatic spike of temperature between them.

"You like the way I touched you?" He trailed a hand down her hip, stretched his fingers across her thigh. His thumb pressed into the soft flesh, eliciting a throaty hum from the back of her throat.

"Yes. I liked it too much." Her restless hands moved over him, sending those rising temperatures into the red-hot zone.

"Bella, there's no such thing as liking it too much."

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So guys how was it? Please leave a comment for me! It would really help because this is the first M-rated fic and I just want to make sure it's up to standard. Please review!

ilovehershey


	2. Chapter 1

Declaimer: I don't own anything Twilight, but I do own this story!

Not as much response as I thought I would have gotten, but nonetheless, I'm very thankful to those two reviewers out there. Thanks _KristenStewartFan_ and _Indunga_! Here's chapter two for ya~

Summary: The sweet, innocent brunette on the dance floor is way out of her league in this hot singles club. And the minute Edward Cullen recognizes that, his protective instincts step up to the plate while he tries to rescue her. If that means pretending to be Bella Swan's blind date, well, so be it. But before he can escort her to safety, she starts whispering some not so innocent suggestions in his ear. How is a guy supposed to be noble when all he can thing about is hitting the sheets?

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Chapter One

Bella's POV

Bad decision number five thousand thirty two – overdressing.

Isabella Swan rocked back on the low heels of her sandals and sighed as she watched the parade of half-clad bodies strut down Ocean Drive toward the swanky new dance club hat would be her destination tonight.

Even though the hands on her antique silver watch pointed to 11:30 p.m., the well-lit street hummed with activity. A steady stream of cars rolled down the avenue at a snail's pace to see and be seen. Foot traffic converged on Eclipse from every direction as if all of South Beach wanted a chance to meet and mingle at Miami's most risqué hot spot.

And every single person Bella laid eyes on wore considerably less than she did.

Shit. How could she have made such a mistake after spending at least forty-five minutes deciding what to wear for this ridiculous blind date?

Bella fingered the featherweight silk of her outfit- a vintage gypsy dress she's unearthed at a consignment shop on one of her antiquing outings. The gossamer garment ranked as the most seductive item of clothing she's ever owned, yet it looked like a school girl's frock next to the sexy getups sported by every woman in line at Eclipse's side entrance across the street.

Once again, Bella's judgment had been faulty.

Surprise, surprise.

In the weeks since she's lost her job, her car, a little bit of her self-respect and her life's dream to boot, Bella had been trying really hard not to exercise her own judgment. In fact, following the explosion of her previously well-ordered life, she's realized that every decision she's ever made had led her to lose her job, her car, some self-respect and her life's dream. Therefore, she couldn't trust her horrendous instincts.

Which accounted for her new desire to do the _opposite_ of everything her instincts suggested.

She would have never considered going on a blind date before, but now as she waded through the rubble of her old existence, she's decided maybe she ought to try it. She's accepted her kindly new neighbor's matchmaking attempt and had agreed to meet the woman's son at the Moulin Rough Lounge inside Eclipse tonight.

Yippee.

While she stood on the street corner where the bus had deposited her and debated what to do about her overdressed condition, Bella was jostled by a pack of young men. She stepped aside quickly, mindful that she needed to quit dreaming and pay attention to her surroundings. A tall guy with spiky hair and a red silky T-shirt swept past her making breathy list _psst_ sounds at her in the way one might call to an animal.

Is this how people communicated attraction these days, or was the man trying to insult he with his catcalls? God, she was so out of touch with the real world. She hadn't been on a genuine date since grad school and even then she's only gone out with history geeks who were so socially inept as her.

But no more.

Tonight marked a symbolic change in Bella's life. A new mode of thinking, a new take-charge attitude. She's thought the way to keep her touch-feely former boss at bay was by buttoning up to the gills in conservative suits and layers of clothes, but Mr. Too Many Hands had probably misread her insecurities in her wardrobe and thought she was playing hard to get.

Steam hissed through her as she remembered those moments trapped in his grip and the ugly fallout of her resistance. She's been fired in short order for sexual harassment even though _he_ had been the one harassing _her_. Using his techno-nerd skills, her ex-boss had managed to manipulate the company computer system into printing out manufactured obnoxious emails supposedly from her to him. And now here she stood a week later.

Pissed and unemployed.

But ready to make a few changes in her life.

Stepping back into the shadows of an alleyway between two of South Beach's historic, ice-cream colored art deco buildings, Bella decided to make a few last minute adjustments to her wardrobe before she embarked on her blind date. The little overnight bag she planned to drop off in her complimentary hotel room before her midnight rendezvous didn't include a change of clothes other than the casual outfit she'd wear tomorrow.

And frankly, she didn't even want to cross over to that swanky, sexy side of the street looking like she did right now. She couldn't do much about overdressing since she had no intention of stripping off her dress. But ditching another item of clothing might make her feel a little more daring and a lot more naked.  
Reaching beneath her blouse, Bella unhooked her while lacy bra and wiggled out of the straps one arm at a time. Her barely 34-Bs didn't really require the support and somehow going braless seemed even more bold than baring a little midriff.

Old Bella would never have taken such a risk. New Bella planned to do just the opposite.

Flinging her bra off to one side to drape across a stainless steel trash can, Isabella Swan prepared to meet her blind date – one Mr. Mike Newton, journalist – with a serious take-charge attitude.

And possible a little jiggle.

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Edward's POV

"Edward, no women is ever going to snap you up with that kind of old-fashioned attitude," Alice Cullen, head chef at Eclipse and part owner of the popular singles playground, stirred her teriyaki sauce and glared at her older brother.

"Since when has it been my mission in life to get snapped up?" Edward stood propped in the half-opened door shortly before the resort's main kitchen closed for the night and stared out over the writhing, wriggling bodies on the dance floor of the Moulin Rouge Lounge. He reached behind him to poke his mouthy sister in the ribs and steal a hunk of bread from the crusty Tuscan load sliced on the counter beside her. "I'm swearing off women since Tanya anyhow, remember?"

He'd been engaged to a woman raised as old-school Italian as him, but even _she's _gotten scared off at the last minute by the idea of lifelong commitment. According to Tanya, she couldn't allow her first lover to be her last.

Not that he blamed her exactly, but he sure as hell would have liked to have been informed of her decision before he showed up at the alter in his tux.

No, he definitely wasn't in any hurry to be snapped up by any one right now. He shoved his pilfered bread in his mouth and resumed watching the erotic flow of scantily clad bodies out on the dance floor. Still leaning on the doorway, he could easily monitor the activity outside the room while occasionally helping Alice with her work in the kitchen. Even after all formal food service ceased at midnight, the main kitchen still buzzed with activity until almost dawn thanks to twenty-four hour room service and the prep work that needed to be done before the hotel's three restaurants opened for breakfast.

Despite the high titillation factor of the action in the lounge, Edward wasn't here to take in the floor show. He usually spent his few evenings away from his carpentry work at Eclipse in order to keep an eye on his baby sister, although tonight there was an added chore. Later he needed to meet his older brother Emmett to discuss the Cullen family finances and how in the hell they were going to cover their little brother's law school expenses without going broke. Edward was already working every spare second of the day. He needed to figure out a way to channel a more high-end product to a higher-paying clientele, but so far he hadn't come up with how to accomplish this.

"Oh please, Edward Cullen the monk?" Alice ladled her sauce over a fresh batch of spinach noodles and slivers of grilled chicken. "Don't try and tell me you're swearing off women. It's been six months since Tanya went back to Alaska. Move on already."  
"And you're such an expect on heartbreak, Mary Alice?" Edward hadn't mentioned his new financial concerns to Alice, knowing his sister felt guilty enough about spending her inheritance by investing in Eclipse. And although the idea of Alice opening her own business where she could indulge the full extent of her culinary skills had sounded great at the time, none of the Cullen men had been prepared for her to bake bruschetta among half-naked bodies in South Beach's most racy club.

Alice garnished the teriyaki dishes with a curly strip of orange peel and a healthy chunk of Tuscan bread while Edward rag a pager to signal one of the wait staff.

"Admittedly, no. I'm not an expert since men never get close enough to me to break my heart thanks to you." She frowned up at him, her forehead damp with steam from the stove.

"Just because the last guy you dated didn't break your heart doesn't mean he didn't cause you a hell of a lot of grief. Excuse me for trying to make sure that doesn't happen again." Some married son of a bitch had lied to Alice that he was single and taken her for a ride last winter. Edward still hadn't forgiven himself for not keeping a better eye out for her.

"I'm entitled to make my own mistakes, damn it. You and Emmett have suffocated me with big brother watchfulness ever since then. IF you don't hook up with some majorly distracting females soon, I may be forced to strangle the both of you."

"Sorry sis. Cullen men don't throw their women to the wolves, and this place of yours is crawling with them." He snagged a plate of teriyaki for himself along with an extra slice of bread. "But since you're feeding me tonight, I'll give you a reprieve and you can have the next hour to yourself."

Alice shoved him toward the door. "I swear you and Emmett are only playing watchdog so you can eat for free. Will you at least try to look mildly charming and less like a muscle-bound bouncer while you chow down so maybe some native woman will steal you away for a few days?

Edward reached for a bottle of water before he backed out of the kitch and into the club. "I'm not interested in the kind of women who want to steal me away. Neanderthals need to do all the stealing."

As the heavy metal door swung shut behind him he heard Alice call him a chauvinist pig and he smiled. No news there.

Dance music flooded his senses as he melted into the crowd to search for a table. Snippets of conversation around him drowned out his own thoughts, escalating into an unintelligible, continuous rumble of noise and laughter.

Although Edward made no attempt to look charming while he ate at his table for on in the back of the bar, tempting women approached him twice. Part of him responded to their frank come-ons and slinky attire. It had been six months since Tanya, after all. Old-fashioned values be damned, his sister had been right to suggest he was no monk.

But he had more on his mind than sex- even with the thumping bass of R&B music pulsing through the dance club and the swirl of moody red and blue lights above him. As the clock behind one of the bars struck midnight, Edward told himself he needed to do a better job keeping the wolves from Alice's door- a sacred trust passed along to him and his brothers by their father on his deathbed. More importantly, he had to figure out how in the hell to pay for his younger brother's latest bills in law school while the rest of his family built their careers.

Obviously he needed a second job to supplement his carpentry, but –

Holy hell.

Edward's attention snapped from finances back to the action on the dance floor. The scene that a moment ago bad been a mass of rump shaking, thigh flashing and heavy breathing got a little more interesting as a petite brunette dressed like a fairy in a high-school play glided into view.

Edward had her pegged for the glasses and hair-in-a-bun type in two seconds flat. Her fluttery lavender dress looked like the kind of thing other women wore to church. Yet here she was, flitting through South Beach's most notoriously exotic club in an ankle length skirt.

She had a schoolteacher walk too. Very proper. No lazy hip rolling or swinging of arms going on there. In fact, she seemed to take up as little space as possible, edging her way through the crowd, shoulders delicately drawn in and her brown eyes wide with palpable surprise at the sex-drenched atmosphere.

She stood out in the crowd to him- a conservative anomaly in the room packed full of skintight clothes and do-me high heels.

Not that anyone else seemed to notice.

While Edward tracked her with his eyes as she inched her way between men and women playing complex games of flirtation, he realized no one else noticed the incongruity of this reserved creature in the midst of the urban jungle.

Talk about being thrown to the wolves. The feathery brunette looked completely unprepared to handle herself in a flagrant meat market like this one. Where was _her_ big brother, damn it?

Rising to his feet, Edward passed off his plate to a harried busboy and moved closer to the dance floor, all thought of second jobs and law school tuition forgotten for the moment.

Not that he was attracted to this woman, he told himself. Just that the protector in him couldn't stand to watch her brand of innocence stomped by the lascivious lounge lizards populating the club.

He had already glimpsed some slick Don Juan type headed her way, two drinks in his hand. And no way did this man know the wide-eye brunette. Edward had seen this particular Romeo at the club every night he's checked in on Alice for the past month. Emmett had tossed the guy out on his ear last week for aggressively dancing with a woman who obviously wanted no part of his company.

Edward finished his bottle of water and tossed it on to the bar, keeping his eye on the silk-suited barracuda closing in on little Miss Innocent. Alice wouldn't exactly mind if he didn't get back to the kitchen for another hour.

She could call him a chauvinist all she wanted. He had every intention of running interference for the brunette newcomer- at least until he convinced her she was out of her depth in these shark-infested waters.

Swearing off women didn't mean he couldn't help out a lady in distress. Or possible introduce himself after he'd given her a hand. He had a pulse, after all.

And damn it, he wasn't a monk.

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Bella's POV

Isabella wondered if it was too late to back out of the blind date thing when she spied the man in a slick silk suit walking toward her with two drinks in his hand. He shared the same reedy, too perfect good looks as her former boss, an association that brought a wave of nausea to her already quivery belly.

She forced herself to stand still, however, determined not to follow her instincts tonight, if this guy turned out to be Mike Newton, she would find a way to survive it. Although she suspected it would be easier to get through the evening if she's worn her bra. At this rate, she's be hunching her shoulders all night to disguise the fact.

Then again, her date might be very nice despite the strong cloud of musky cologne that reached her long before he did.

Her lovely neighbor Mrs. Newton assured her Mike was a perfect gentleman.

Straightening her spine as a man approached her from the right and opened his mouth to speak, Bella jumped when another voice intervened.

"I've been keeping an eye out for you." The warm, masculine rasp emanated from her left. Somehow she's missed this man's approach in her fear of turning her back on Mr. Reedy.

A damn shame considering the newcomer looked like a page on a girl's pinup calendar. She had never possessed such a thing herself, but in the many hours of her life she's spent ensconced in bookstores, Bella had most certainly spied hunk calendars. This guy, with his bronze hair, even darker eyes and sexy bronze skin should have been in one of the "Studs of Italy" editions.

Not that she's memorized her favorite titles or anything, either.

"You've been looking for me?" She wondered if her voice conveyed a pathetic amount of hopefulness. Glancing back and forth between Mr. Reedy who's taken the liberty of ordering a drink for her already and the Italian stud who possessed killer muscles and yet not a hint of aggressive body language, Bella crossed her fingers that the Italian stud proved to be Mike Newton.

She cast a pointed look to her left, away from the overpowering cologne of Joe Slick. "I'm Bella Swan. Are you Mike?"

The guy to her right bristled, raising himself a little taller in his polished leather shoes as he shoved a drink under her nose. "Hey, Bella, how about some sex on the beach?"

She struggled not to roll her eyes. Even the college history geeks had been above using that tired bit. Curious, she wanted to ask the man if that line had ever worked fir gun before, but Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome inserted himself between them to face her.

"_I'm_ the man you're looking for." He nudged the reedy guy's glass aside with one hand while smoothly steering Bella toward the back of the club and away from the other man.

Very presumptuous. And okay, maybe a little sexy.

Part of her was grateful for the assistance since she's been getting a sinus headache from the other guy's cologne overload, but part of her didn't appreciate being led around by the nose. Or in this case, the elbow.

The new Isabella had every intention of calling her own shots and following her own path in life.

She stopped just before they reached a secluded table, refusing to go any farther until she's confronted Rambo.

Whirling on him, she sent her skirt in a swirl about her legs, the resulting breeze creating a delicious draft up her legs. But as she faced her rescuer again, she was struck anew by his sexy good looks. The bronze skin, the dark eyes, the disarray hair. His sharply sculpted face was full of hard angles, relieved only by the soft fullness of his mouth.

And despite the serious feminine competition all around, this guy had noticed _her_and stuck around long enough to help her out of a sticky situation. The night seemed to be looking up.

Clearing her throat, she tried to remember Mrs. Newton's description of Mike Newton and failed. Any mental vision she might have formed of Mike had somehow transmuted into the hard edges and clean lines of the man standing in front of her. "I'm sorry, but did you say you were my date?"

"You're meeting a blind date?" his dark eyebrows knit together in an intimidating furrow. "In this meat market?"

What a perfectly eloquent assessment of the place. Eclipse was lushly beautiful with its rich appointments and clever lighting, but the atmosphere in the lounge was a bit – sexually overt. Mrs. Newton had given Bella a room here tonight so she would be safe territory to retreat to if her date didn't work out. "It _is_ a meat market, isn't it?"

He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath about idiotic men as a group of dances clad only in strategic white feathers breezed past them.

She noted with interest that his gaze didn't stray to the expanse of exposed feminine flesh that passed almost under his nose. If anything, she had been more curious about the feathered dancers that he seemed.

Appreciation for meeting a real gentleman- something far too rare in her opinion- warmed her to her toes. And he's known she was meeting a blind date. Obviously she had found her man. "If you think Eclipse is such a pick-up joint, why did you want to come here tonight?"

"This wouldn't have been my first choice, that's for sure. Who was it you said you were meeting again?" He glared around the room as if surprised to find himself here.

"Mike Newton." She snagged a fresh pre-poured glass of the champagne fountain at one end of the bar and helped herself to a little more of the bubbly drink. As part of ladies night, the Moulin Rouge Lounge offered free champagne to its female guests until 1:00 a.m., according to a sign in the lobby. She'd had a glass a few minutes ago, but the nervousness chugging through her and the tingly awareness of the man standing next to her urged her to indulge in a little more. Between the rapid pounding of her heart and the swift whoosh of air in and out of her lungs, the sedative effects of alcohol would be most welcome right about now. "I'm so glad I found you. I have to admit I'm a little out of my element in here. I feel better already to be with someone I can trust."

He was quiet for so long, she hesitated before sipping her champagne.

"Assuming you _are_ my date tonight?" A wave of nervousness treaded through her. She'd be a little bit embarrassed at this point if he wasn't.

He reached for the glass just as she put it to her lips, covering her hand with his own, effectively seizing the drinking and awakening a long slumberous desire she hadn't known she's harbored until just this very moment.

"Why don't you let me get you a drink?" He leaned closer as he spoke in soft, serious tones. The gesture was at once totally innocent and thoroughly intimate. His dark eyes cut through the shifting blue and red lights, making the rests of the noisy club disappear for one heated moment. "And I am most definitely your date tonight, Bella Swan."

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Okay so that's chapter one. As you can see, Bella, Edward and Alice are very different from the book, but hopefully you guys don't mind that. I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as you enjoyed the prologue. Please review and tell me what you think. Reviewers get a teaser for chapter two!

ilovehershey


	3. Chapter 3

Declaimer: I don't own anything Twilight, but I do own this story!

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Wow, it's been awhile. Sorry guys! I've been so caught up in school and life that I pushed back this story! Without further ado, chapter 2!

Summary: The sweet, innocent brunette on the dance floor is way out of her league in this hot singles club. And the minute Edward Cullen recognizes that, his protective instincts step up to the plate while he tries to rescue her. If that means pretending to be Bella Swan's blind date, well, so be it. But before he can escort her to safety, she starts whispering some not so innocent suggestions in his ear. How is a guy supposed to be noble when all he can thing about is hitting the sheets?

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Chapter Two

Edward's POV

Edward eased the champagne glass out of Bella's hand slowly, not wishing to scare her away by appearing too domineering. Didn't she know the dangers of picking up a pre-poured glass of anything in a crowded nightclub?

He'd have to talk to Alice about getting ride of those filled glasses on top of the champagne fountain right away. The drinks were perched in a place where anyone could have access to them- not a good setup when date-rape drugs were so widespread. It took half a second for someone to drug a drink; a stat savvy club-goer kept in mind.

Not Bella Swan.

Her brand of innocence could be downright dangerous.

Applying light pressure to the small of her back, Edward nudged her toward the table he'd staked out for himself in the back. Over her head, he crooked his finger at one of Alice's waitresses.

"Why don't you let me order you a fresh drink?" He rolled out the Cullen charm, needing to keep Bella entertained and out of circulation in the lounge. "My sister is something of a food and drink wizard and she works in the back. How about if I ask her to prepare us something a little more exotic?"

Bella seemed to weigh the idea for a moment. Then she smiled up at him in a half-crocked grin that struck him as a rusty movement. "Yes. Absolutely. Exotic is exactly what I'm looking for tonight."

God help him.

If she'd said as much to Don Juan the barfly who'd tried to corner her before, the guy would have hustled her out of the club and back to his room in five minutes flat.

Apparently Bella had no sense of how to protect herself in the bar scene.

And although Edward hadn't intended to misrepresent himself tonight, he also wasn't about to allow Bella to wander the club alone looking for her idiotic blind date.

What kind of moron lured an innocent woman like Bella into the most scandal-ridden hot spot in South Beach? A guy who didn't deserve her, that much was for sure. For that matter, maybe this Mike guy had sleazy intentions.

In which case, Edward definitely wasn't going to let him have a shot at her.

As he and Bella slid into the seats of the round booth table in the back corner, Edward asked the waitress for a couple of Good Fortune Potions, Alice's most recent creation.

He'd simply enjoy a drink with Bella until he could put her safely in a cab back home. Surely he could justify not telling her the truth since he was only protecting her. It's not like he had designs on her for himself.

Still, in an effort to forestall any question about him, Edward thought he'd better take the conversational lead.

"Bella is a great name." Okay, admittedly his dating small-talk skills needed a little sharpening up, but it was the best he could come up with on short notice.

"It's short for Isabella, but I never really liked being called that." She peered around the club from the safe haven of their table, her dark-brown eyes absorbing the action with the passive interest of a woman accustomed to observing life rather than taking part of it. "My mother thought if she gave her daughter an exotic name I would eventually live up to it." Bella shrug, her exposed shoulder calling attention to it a few feet away from him. "But no luck so far. I'm an out-of-work art historian with an interest in antiques. Not exactly the outgoing and adventurous type."

Edward allowed his gaze to wander over her again with this new information in mind. But his eye was distracted by the shadow of her body beneath her dress and the…

Holy shit.

She was naked underneath that dress.

Thank you, God, he wasn't in the middle of taking a drink or he would have spewed it for sure. Luckily the waitress chose to make a reappearance just then, bringing with her a tray laden with the exotic concoction his sister had demanded he taste just last night for the first time. The blend of fruit juices, rum and who knows what else, garnished by a fortune cookie had been delicious.

Bella reached for hers, a gesture that put her breasts in close contact with the silky thin fabric of her lavender dress. Breasts he could now see that were shaped like small apples, tipped with dark, tight nipples.

A rush a male appreciation swamped his senses, alerting his every stray blood cell that a sexy woman sat within tantalizing reach. Heat crawled over his skin, making his whole body edgy and very…ready for action.

Great. This was just what he needed- he was trying to be noble and in the course of two steamy seconds his body had turned traitor to the cause.

How had he ever thought that dress of hers was conservative?

"I'm sure you're living up to the name." His words scratched across a throat gone slightly hoarse. Maybe this swearing off women thing hadn't been such a good idea. His self-imposed sexual deprivation of the last few months was robbing him of necessary objectivity. "You risked accepting a blind date tonight. That takes a healthy sense of adventure."

"Maybe a little." She sipped her drink through the straw, her forehead puckered in a wary concentration as she tasted the concoction. And smiled. "My compliments to your sister. This is delicious. Much better than champagne."

She bent forward for another sip, her breast grazing the fabric of her dress again. Not that he had a clear view with the table in the way and her sitting at a forty-five degree angle to him in the round booth. Still, his imagination easily supplied what he couldn't see with his own eyes.

"You're an art historian?" Think conversation. Think conversation. He refused to morph into some slick pickup artist just because he'd caught a glimpse of bare breasts. He could maintain an intelligent discussion even if Bella was naked beneath her dress. He hoped so anyway.

"I just left a position with the South Beach historical museum that I held for five years. We focused on preserving Floridian culture and we recently added a small exhibit on native architecture." She did a double take as the lights dimmed on the dance floor and the music changed to a salsa beat. The club-goers who had populated the floor moved to one side to make room for the hourly show. Leaning close, she whispered in Edward's ear. "What's happening now?"

Warmth tripped through him along with her hushed words. What was it about a whisper that created an immediate veil of intimacy around two people?  
"There's a floor show every house. Sort of a Vegas-style event with lots of-"half-naked bodies. Painted-on tattoos over women's nipples. See-through feathers in the place of panties. "-costumes."

She's see for herself soon enough. The parade of perfect female bodies and fluffy white feathers was already snaking through the club toward the open dance floor. He and Emmett had been trying for weeks to convince Alice that the sex-drenched club was no place for a young woman to work, but to no avail so far.

Edward didn't take any note of the parade of bare flesh, however. He simply watched Bella's reaction, mesmerized by her transparent features as her face registered surprise, titillation and pleasure at the seductive moves performed by the Moulin Rouge's dancers.

Her cheeks flushed pink the first time a dancer sent a limber high kick in their direction. Her soft lips parted on a little gasp when another woman brought her supple bump-and-grind routine a few inches from their table.

Was Isabella Swan- who, according to her, had never quite lived up to her name- as innocent as she appeared? She had to be in her mid-to-late twenties if she'd worked as an art historian for five years. Didn't that sort of profession call for some kind of post-graduate work? Surely she couldn't be all that inexperienced. But there was an undeniable naiveté about her actions, an unexpected sense of wonder Edward found incredible appealing.

So many women he'd dated were blatantly in charge of their sexual desire. The dating mentality these days seemed to be I want this, I want it nonstop for 12.2 minutes and I don't want to wait for it. Did it make him a chauvinist to think that in women's rush for control in the bedroom a certain willingness to go with the flow, an openness to try new things, had been lost?

Spontaneity seemed like a quaint notion of the past.

However, it seemed like a quality Bella Swan might possess.

Too bad he wasn't going to act on the growing attraction he felt for her.

Besides, Bella wasn't the sort of woman a guy could just cart back to his room. She was much more demure than that. More subtle. A woman with dedicated ethics and old-fashioned values.

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Bella's POV

Just _how_ did a woman go about enticing an Italian stud back to her bedroom?

Bella pondered the question as she stared across the table at her sexy-as-sin date.

The seductive performance of the feather-clad dancers had just ended and the music pulsing through the club switched from the blood-pumping salsa to a funky R&B song that had everyone on the floor. Something about the staged show remained with Bella, some vaguely erotic longing, a latent desire to perform and be noticed in the bold manner the dancers had called attention to themselves.

If she could claim that kind of sensual power, she would surely be an in-charge woman to be reckoned with. A fierce female. A woman who ran with the wolves.

All of which was exactly what she needed. And she'd be on her way to having those things with one simple seduction.

The decision to pursue her date wasn't nearly as difficult as she might have expected. She couldn't deny an instant attraction to his dark good looks and his fathomless green eyes. Under normal circumstances she would have crossed her fingers that he would call her- knowing all the time he wouldn't- and wasted a lot of time being disappointed.

But under her new life principle, she would do the opposite of wait around. She'd call the shots; she'd seduce him, and maybe-just maybe- she'd actually get what she wanted in life for a change.

Of course, Bella fully recognized the brilliant plan was probably helped along by the happy combination of champagne and Good Fortune Potion zipping through her system. Other women did this all the time, however, so she refused to worry about the consequences.

Her date- Mike, she reminded herself- leaned closer, the short sleeve of his black T-shirt brushing her shoulder as he did. "So what did you think of the show? The Moulin Rouge Lounge has caused a bit of a local uproar with the antics of their dancers."

Bella rejoiced over the conversational opening and prayed she wouldn't blow it. "I thought it was incredibly sexy. Very…stimulating. Definitely inspiring."

Mike's jaw dropped just a little. Bella hoped that was a good sign.

"Really? Some of our local politicians are making a push to put more restrictions on the creative license of the performance."  
"The audience is appropriately mature here." Bella shook her head, thinking of all the risqué artworks from antiquity that were accumulating dust in the basements and storerooms of museums all over the world. "Throughout history, there has always been a movement to suppress sexual art, but who exactly is getting hurt in the wake of a little titillation at an adult dance club? She cast him what she hoped was a suggestive smile and flipped her hair over one should. "So a few more men and women go home together tonight because a provocative dance has gotten them fired up. What harm is there in that?"

Mike's dark eyes widened.

Did he have no clue what she was driving at here? Perhaps a woman needed to be more overt about what she wanted.

"I agree there's no harm," he started, the words seeming to stick in his throat a bit.

Bella rushed to clarify. "All I'm saying is that we ought to be able to appreciate the invitation to seduction without feeling guilty because we enjoyed it, you know?"

Mike shrugged. "I wouldn't say _I_ feel guilty. But some people-"

"That's great." She squeezed his forearm, relishing the way a man's arm contained muscle in the most innocuous of places and hoping positive reinforcement would help steer him in her direction. "Because I don't feel guilty either. You want to walk me up to my room?"

"You have a room here?" His voice rasped across another throaty note.

Bella handed him his half-full glass. "Tonight was a birthday present from your mom. Mrs. Newton reserved a room for me when she set up our date so I wouldn't have to worry about taking a bus home."  
"I would have never put you on a bus at two o'clock in the morning, Bella." His dark eyebrows knit together in that serious manner that warmed her insides. Mike Newton knew enough about chivalry to make a woman's heart beat faster.

"Maybe Mrs. Newton just wanted to give me a place to retreat to in case our date didn't go as well as she's doped." The dear woman. Bella couldn't wait to give her a big hug and some homemade bread for sending this gorgeous man into her life if only for one night.

"About my mom-"

Bella jumped up from the table, certain that this line of conversation would only distract them from the flirtatious atmosphere she'd struggled to maintain every since the feathered dancers had departed the lounge.

Doting mothers were not a topic she wished to discuss while in seduction mode for the first time in her life.

"How about one dance before we call it a night?" She extended her hand to him in yet another unprecedented move. Bella Swan, the woman who'd busted the grading curve in every class she'd every taken, the college geek turned scholar for life, was asking the most gorgeous guy in the room to dance with her.

And as if her lucky stars were in perfect alignment over her head, the DJ changed the pace to a slow groove, a song that was sexy and danceable and just right for getting close to this man.

Either because of his chivalrous nature or else because he knew fate was conspiring against him, Mike slid out of the booth and rose to his feet. Bella gulped as his arm slipped around her waist, the warm expanse of his palm connecting with the small of her back.

"How can I refuse a beautiful woman's request?"

Oh my.

No one had every called her beautiful before. Cute, maybe. And she knew better than to fall for idle flattery, but something about the way he looked at her when he said it made her feel beautiful. Strong. Confident.

As they made their way toward the floor, Bella revised her former opinion that she had been overdressed for tonight. Right now, with long masculine fingers applying light pressure to her spine, she felt as if she wore nothing at all. The thin silk of her dress seemed to scorch and vanish beneath that sure, possessive touch.

She scoped out the dance floor, hoping to find a place for them among the mob of other couples vying for space on the hardwood floor. But she needn't have concerned herself. Before she'd analyzed all the options, Mike twirled her toward him, somehow halting her mid-spin so that she ended up face to face with him, firmly in his arms. Every schoolgirl fantasy she'd every hoped for in vain was granted in that long minute as she stared up at him. It didn't matter that she'd never been greatly noticed, fawned over or otherwise admired by a charismatic male in the course of her younger days because right now the forces of cosmic balance were finally tipping the scale in her favor.

And she was winning big time.

She could have gazed into those dark green eyes of his forever, but the subtle sway of their feet beneath them jolted her back to awareness. They were dancing.

Not the awkward one-two-three, one-two-three of stepping on one another's feet that had been a staple in her personal repertoire. No, she wasn't even sure _how_ they were dancing or _why_ her body knew just how to follow his, but they moved together in supple agreement as smoothly as if they'd been choreographed.

His body met hers- hip to hip, thigh to thigh- in a warm, sinuous connection. Her skin flamed right through her silken skirt as she realized how little a barrier her gypsy dress provided. And her breasts…

She didn't dare move away from him now that her breasts grazed his chest. Her reaction- and attraction- would be immediately obvious.

The music enveloped them, folding her into the slow bass line as the dance floor lights all turned to a moody shade of blue. In the dimness, she could almost convince herself they were alone as they moved together in total accord.

"Thanks for sharing a drink with me tonight, Bella." His voice emanated from above her, but she was close enough to hear the rumble of speech in his chest. Through the thin layer of black cotton that covered superb pecs. Through the faded pine scent of his aftershave that she only detected now that he was near.

"I hope you mom didn't have to twist your arm into coming tonight." She kicked herself as soon as she said it because it sounded like the kind of paranoid comment an eighteen-year-old would make. Did she not only have to monitor all her actions but her speech now, too?

He didn't look turned off by her insecure comment, however. He trailed a thumb over her cheek and tipped her face up to his.

"No one twisted my arm, Bella. You were a definite choice of my own free will."

Something inside her sighed with pleasure.

Goosebumps popped out over her skin, a mix of shivery chills and tingly anticipation. His sure touch made her eyelids flutter, fall closed for one long moment.

When the kiss that she'd hoped for didn't materialize, she pried her lips open again and decided the _new_ Bella wasn't a woman willing to wait. The new Bella wanted her kiss and she was determined to have it.

Now.

Confident that her bold decision fit in with her plan to take charge of her life, she pressed her body closer to his.

She hadn't been prepared for the shock waves that kind of movement would send straight to the intimate heart of her. She was in way over her head with this man, but she found she didn't care.

More than anything, she wanted this one change to be daring, this one night to be bold and in control of her body, her actions.

He readjusted his hands to accommodate their new closeness, his hands on her waist while his fingertips dangled pleasantly down the curve of her backside. Bella wondered what it might be like to make love to him, to have him lower his hands even more to guide their bodies together…

Smoothing her hands up the hard planes of his chest, she inched her way closer to what she wanted. He stared down at her with steady dark eyes, fully alert to her every move yet letting her choose the pace of what was happening between the,.

After those horrifying moments locked in her creepy former boss' office, Bella appreciated Mike's willingness to let her take the lead.

And damn it, she _was_ taking the lead.

Even though her senses were all keenly tuned to the moment, a small part of her rational brain stood aloof from the heated action on the dance floor and seemed to star down at her from above, applauding her boldness.

_You go, girl. _

As the final strains of the slow song hummed through her, Bella reached for the prize she'd been dreaming of since she laid eyes on her sexy blind date. And with no more thought of the consequences, she touched her lips to his.

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HOLY SNAPPERS! So how was that for a cliff hanger? And so early on in the story too! What will happen next? Please review!

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